I know it's been over a year since I've posted anything.
I'm lazy.
And tend to get side-tracked easily.
And then there's the whole university thing..
Anyway.. here is chapter 3.
Confrontations
Harry put on an entirely too convincing performance the next day. He went through every single class pretending that he was fine, that he was more than okay, and that he didn't have semi-suicidal tendencies. He may need to hurt himself but he had no wish to hurt his friends. So he pretended to be okay for them, for as long as he could.
After excusing himself from supper early, Harry did all of his homework in his room, enclosed in the curtains surrounding his four poster bed. It was something Hermione would have been proud of.
Harry sat silently on his bed; his wand lit for some light, and listened to the murmur of noise from the common room. His heart pounded inside of his chest, he didn't want anyone to interrupt him or see him for that matter. The act he had put on all day was taking its toll on him and all he could concentrate on was making the pain go away. Taking a new quill out of his bag, Harry slowly ran the tip across his palm. It stung, but didn't break the skin. The sigh that escaped Harry's lips was one of relief, not pain. He ran the sharp quill over his palm again, making criss-crossing red lines on his hand. They were like paper cuts, shallow but deceptively painful. All conscious thinking left his mind as Harry concentrated solely on the pain.
He couldn't handle listening to Ron and Hermione argue over senseless points. He couldn't look into Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. It was too hard.
"It's my fault," he mumbled as he cut himself again. He watched the blood trickle out of the cut that went from the top of him palm and zigzagged half way up his arm. It hurt. It made Harry's eyes water in pain. But it was all consuming. There was no room to think about emotions. He reveled in the mind numbing pain and only healed his wounds when he heard footsteps.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry answered quietly, cleaning his own blood off of his quill.
"You okay mate?"
"I'm fine Ron. Just tired. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"Yeah, alright," he heard Ron sigh before leaving the room again.
Harry woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. He threw his invisibility cloak on and left the dorm. After half and hour of wandering through the school Harry found himself in the astronomy tower. Throwing his cloak on a nearby bench, Harry stood at the wall of the tower. The sky was a long way up, and the ground was a long way down. Harry wondered how much it would hurt if he jumped. Would it kill him? Or just leave him seriously wounded for life?
He knew that his death would hurt people, that it might mean Voldemort would win. He wasn't looking for attention, he wanted an escape. What chance did he really have of beating Voldemort anyway? It wasn't even that he wanted to die⦠he wanted to be left alone. To be rid of his horrible memories, not to be chosen and marked as Voldemort's equal.
Harry stood on the low wall and looked over the dark landscape. The wind blew coolly, the stars were bright, the moon was a tiny sliver. The night was silent.
"Mr. Potter," a voice growled.
Harry jumped in shock but his reflexes allowed him to land safely on the floor of the tower.
"What do you think you're doing," Snape hissed.
"Thinking," Harry answered defiantly. All of his defenses were raised at the sight of the teacher who hated him.
"On the edge of the astronomy tower? Where you could have fallen and killed yourself?" Snape questioned icily.
"There are worse things," Harry whispered.
"You hold surprisingly little value for your own life, considering the lengths we've taken to protect you," Snape growled. "What do you think would happen if you died?"
Harry said nothing.
"Answer me." Harry walked around Snape, heading towards the stairs. "Mr. Potter, answer me." Harry kept walking. "Harry!"
Harry spun around. "I think that Cedric and Sirius would still be alive. I think the world would be better off without a 'hero' like me. I think my relatives would stop hating me! I think I'd be a hell of a lot happier having some kind of control over my own damn life!" Harry shouted with clenched fists and shining eyes.
Snape blinked in shock before he regained his mask of indifference. "Nothing will bring Cedric and Black back to life. Deal with it. And I assure you, you are not considered a hero. You are, however, just as arrogant and self- centered as you father was."
Harry's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Don't assume to think that you know a thing about me," he hissed. "You decided you hated me the minute you saw me. You're not different that my abusive relatives. I am not my father, stop making me pay for his mistakes." Seeing the flash of anger in his Potion Master's eyes he quickly disappeared under his cloak before Snape could retaliate.
Storming back to his common room, Harry was seething. How dare Snape accuse him of being an arrogant fool. Harry threw himself onto his bed, angry at Snape for not understanding and angry at himself for snapping. He fell asleep, for once feeling something other than depressed and alone.
Okay, I know it's not the best.. but I wrote it like forever ago.
I wouldn't expect more posts really soon. But I do like this story and I do plan on finishing it at some point.
Tell me what you think of it. As long as you don't hate it. If you hate it, I'd rather not know.
